


two hearts in one home

by allthefadinglights



Category: Formula 2 RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Shirtgate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:02:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28198836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthefadinglights/pseuds/allthefadinglights
Summary: Callum has to borrow Mick's clothes for the prize-giving ceremony. Marcus isn't really amused.
Relationships: Marcus Armstrong/Callum Ilott
Comments: 1
Kudos: 73





	two hearts in one home

**Author's Note:**

> Also known as my very late contribution to shirtgate, but a Marcus/Callum take on it. 
> 
> For fiction's sake, we shall just pretend that alcohol in Bahraini hotel minibars is a thing.

Marcus _knows_ he has no right to be jealous of anyone, just like he knows the sun rises in the east and that motorsport can be dangerous. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it's ever-present but usually dormant. It doesn't stop the green jealousy from rearing its ugly head, however. Instead, he watches on feeling a little sick to the stomach as Callum chats to Mick behind the podium, just before they're due to pick up their trophies and give a little interview. Oh, it's not the chatting that's the issue, Marcus'd be feeling sick a lot if he got jealous every time Callum talked to someone else. It's the fact that he's dressed entirely in Mick's clothes. It's not even in a cute way, it's just because he doesn't read his damn emails and didn't pack any smart clothes. Neither did Marcus, for the record, but he knew before leaving for Bahrain that he wasn't gonna need to pick up a trophy because his season has just been that atrocious. It's new to him, not being at the front, and he doesn't like it one bit. Makes him feel almost as sick as seeing Callum right now does. 

Marcus was there when the situation occurred, spending a lot of time in the Prema garage because ART had never felt like family throughout the year. And Rene is practically a father figure at this point. Callum had come over to congratulate the team and Mick on their double championship win when Rene had surreptitiously mentioned the prize-giving. Callum had gone wide-eyed. full deer in the headlights, and asked what on earth Rene was on about. Thus ensued his panic about not having any smart clothes with him - Marcus knew he had plenty of them divided between their house in Italy and his parents' house in England - and having to show up to a ceremony in shorts and his FDA shirt. Thankfully for Callum, Rene had a solution. Or rather, Mick had the solution because for some reason, he'd brought more than one set of smart clothes. If it was because he'd been prepared for this situation or because he just liked having options, Marcus didn't know.

And so he'd ended up here, watching Callum talk to Mick, dressed fully in Mick's clothes - except the shoes. He was still wearing his stupid white Adidas. Even the Louis Vuitton belt was Mick's. Obviously, because Callum had no taste. And, Marcus hates to admit it, Callum looks _good_. Marcus has been stubbornly denying to himself that he likes Callum in any other way than just a friend, because he simply doesn't have time to have that crisis and it's never going to happen anyway. This is also something ever-present in the back of his mind, and it's quite depressing. So no, he really has no right at all to be jealous right now, and yet, here he is. Yuki's called to the podium first and Marcus tries to tear his eyes away from Callum and focus on the actual ceremony. That plan goes out the window the second Callum steps onto the podium and picks up his trophy. 

The whole thing passes in a blur of red and light blue, as Marcus is unable to look anywhere but Callum. It's maddening, really, that he's so distracted by a single smart shirt and black skinny jeans. He can shake off anything happening when he's got his helmet on and his hands on the wheel, but a single shirt does him in? "You're mumbling," Christian says next to him and now Marcus is the one looking like a deer in the headlights. "Anything you wanna share?"

"Not really, no," Marcus replies as he firmly keeps his mouth shut for the rest of the ceremony. He can feel Christian giving him some side-eyed look but he's pointedly ignoring it. It's none of his teammate's business, even if he means well. Jüri appears at his other side just as they're taking the pictures on the podium, only looks at Marcus but doesn't say a word. Marcus has the unsettling feeling that Jüri _knows_ what he's thinking about and it's quite unnerving. Sometimes it's like he can see right through Marcus. Perks of having been friends for too long, probably. 

"Might wanna do something about that, mate," Jüri says as the ceremony's over and Marcus is left looking at the empty podium. Marcus wants to ask him what the fuck he's on about, but he's already disappeared into the crowd with Christian.

"Hey," Callum says cheerfully as he appears in front of Marcus. "You up for a drink back at the hotel?" Marcus nods, not really trusting himself to say anything sane right now. He follows Callum back to the paddock to grab their stuff, and walking behind Callum was a huge mistake. Callum himself is just chatting to Mick as they carry their trophies, but Marcus is unable to tear his eyes away from how good Callum looks in those jeans. Really, he should ask Mick if Callum can keep them, because they do him a lot more justice than his usual ill-fitting pair of Armani jeans. "You've been quiet, is everything okay?" Callum asks him, quietly, as Marcus watches him grab his stuff from the motorhome. 

"Yeah, I'm fine," Marcus says, and then, because his brain is a useless piece of shit, "nice outfit."

Callum chuckles, throwing his backpack over one shoulder and holding his oversized trophy in one hand. "All Mick's, but I gotta admit it's pretty comfy."

"You look good," Marcus says and he prays to every god he's ever heard of he's not blushing like an idiot, because his brain-to-mouth filter doesn't work right now. He blames the jeans. 

Callum looks at him for a second, a look in his eyes Marcus doesn't recognise. "Thanks. Let's go, shall we? I could use a drink after this stressful day."

"God, me too," Marcus mutters as he follows Callum out of the paddock. The hotel isn't far away, thankfully, and it doesn't take long for them both to have settled down on the balcony of Callum's hotel room with a drink. They're quiet, but it's not uncomfortable. Marcus can usually read Callum like a book - and vice versa - but not right now. He has no idea what he's thinking about, and the far-away look in his eyes indicates he is indeed thinking about something. 

It's only when Callum has finished his drink that he speaks up. "I should probably return these clothes to Mick soon. I don't think they do dry-cleaning in this hotel."

"You shouldn't," Marcus blurts out before he can stop himself. 

"I shouldn't what?" 

The tension is almost tangible now, thanks to Marcus' comment. He really wants to slap himself now, but there's no going back. He raises his head to look at Callum, who almost looks like he's challenging Marcus, daring him to say something, wicked glint in his eyes. "Shouldn't return it to Mick," Marcus says, voice wavering slightly as he chugs the rest of his drink straight after. 

"And why is that?" Callum's stepping closer to him now, still challenging him to say what he means. Marcus has to look up slightly to keep looking him in the eye.

"Because you look great in it. You should keep them." 

They're so close now, Marcus can count every freckle on Callum's nose. "You know, I've been noticing you watching me," Callum says casually, as if they're talking about the weather. "I'd almost start thinking you like me for more than just my charming personality."

And somehow, that's the final straw for Marcus as he puts one hand in Callum's neck and the other on his waist and pulls him down to meet him halfway, kisses him. It's soft, sweet at first until Callum puts his hands on Marcus' waist and it escalates to something more, something deeper. Marcus wants more than just soft and sweet, and he presses himself up against Callum as he kisses him deeper, opens his mouth. He doesn't realise it's him making that desperate noise until they break apart for air and he almost whines at the loss of contact as Callum moves out of reach entirely, takes a few steps back. They're both panting and Marcus feels frozen in place. What has he just done?

"We probably shouldn't do this on the balcony," Callum remarks as he steps back inside his hotel room. Marcus looks at the door stupidly for a few seconds, trying to process what just happened and why Callum doesn't even seem mad at him. "Well, are you coming inside or what?" Callum calls and Marcus hurries inside, closes the sliding door behind him. 

"I'm sorry," Marcus says rapidly. "I didn't mean to do that, I didn't mean to ruin our friendship and make you hate me for it." His voice rises a few octaves as he rambles on, apology after apology, until he realises Callum's right in front of him and that shuts him up.

"What implied that I wasn't into it?" Callum asks. "Because clearly, I'm doing something wrong." 

"You're not mad at me?" Marcus asks quietly. 

Callum chuckles, wicked glint back in his eyes. "Why would I be mad at you when I've been waiting for you to make a move for months. If I'd known me wearing Mick's clothes was the thing that finally pushed you to, I would've done it a lot sooner." 

Marcus just stares at him as he tries to process this new information. "Are you saying we could've been doing this for months?" Callum nods, and before Marcus even fully realises what he's doing, his mouth is back on Callum's and they're kissing, again and again. It's so hot and so good, and Callum walks them backwards towards the bed, the kiss breaking as Marcus falls onto the bed and Callum crawls on top of him. "Are we really doing this?" He can hear the disbelief in his own voice as Callum settles in between his legs with a smile, kisses him again.

"If you want to," Callum replies.

"Like I'd say no," Marcus scoffs, and he pulls Callum down to meet his lips again.


End file.
